Who?
by Galya
Summary: A one off after the final four words. Paris has something to say.


AN: This is purely because I need more Paris in my life. A one off.

…

"Why does this exist?" Paris shouted as she stormed into the Gazette, dressed in a peach pant suit and stiletto heels.

All three of the employees jolted and settled their eyes on the fuming woman holding one of their papers.

"Paris?" Rory asked from her desk. "What are you doing here?"

The newspaper was slammed down in front of Rory. Her eyes looked down and saw the article written by Doyle. "That's from months ago."

Paris leaned in. "Listen you two faced, Angelina Jolie, man stealing, Kristen Stewart, Mazursky directed whore face!"

"Whore face?" Rory droned, sitting back. "Really? You have an Ivy league education."

"You have a degree in putting your legs behind your head!"

Rory jumped to her feet as her two employee were staring on in shock.

"I told you," Esther scolded. "We should've been allowed to arm ourselves."

"Move!" Rory instructed as she gripped Paris by the arm and began dragging her towards the back into the tiny closet of a break room. In fact it was a closet with a coffee maker on a table.

"I am not having an affair with Doyle!" Rory shouted, slamming the door behind her. "I already told you this!"

"Then why would he write an article for your puny little newspaper!"

Rory snapped. "It was a favor and it's not puny!"

"The Smurfs read it!"

Rory took a deep breath through her nose. "Paris, I know this divorce has been hard on you but-"

"But-"

Rory placed her hand over Paris's mouth. "You have to stop attacking your friends."

"Friend."

Rory brought down her hand sadly. "Surely, you can't be serious."

"I am serious. And don't call me Shirley."

They stood quietly in front of each other. Paris tried to smile, but couldn't figure out how. Rory sat down at the table in the closet/ breakroom, shaking her head.

"You are so lucky," Paris sighed leaning against the wall. "You can do whatever you want! You can fly off to Rome at a moments notice or have sex on the kitchen counter."

"That's very unhygienic."

"You aren't tied down. You are free!"

Rory stared down at the table for a moment fidgeting with her hands. A barely audible phrase came from her lips. "I'm pregnant."

Paris jolted upright. "Who was it? Magic Makers? Stork Dreams? This whole time behind my back!"

"I wasn't artificially inseminated!"

Paris cocked her head to the side. "You...got knocked up on purpose?"

"Accident." Rory winced.

"Did you forget what a condom was?"

"I just said it was an accident!"

Paris leaned down, her hands on the tiny table. "No! There are no accidents with a baby. You use the pill and a condom and foam and a diaphragm. If you don't want a kid you take care of yourself and you don't have a kid. You were just being lazy."

"Excuse me?" Rory gasped.

"Look at this body," Paris tutted, standing back up, drawing a circle around her chest and stomach. "Years of juicing and dermabrasion and thousands spent to lift my tits back up from my knees after the kids. No way am I jeopardizing this for an...accident."

Rory felt her eyes begin to sting as she felt smaller and smaller by Paris's words. The rooms size didn't help either.

"Don't do that."

"I don't know what I was thinking," Rory breathed out, tears streaming down her face.

"Tell the little blue lady in your head to chill out right now!"

There was a knock at the door to the closet.

"Go away!" Paris yelled.

"It's Jess. Is Rory there?"

"Jess?" Paris replied, her head cocking to the side almost robotically. "From...high school?"

Suddenly the door burst open, causing Jess to jump back.

"You!" Paris snarled. "You have the audacity to come here. Haven't you done enough to her?"

"I'm sorry," Jess stated. "I didn't realize I just crossed into the Gaza strip."

"Paris," Rory warned. "Please. It's not his fault."

"Don't protect him and take all of this on yourself. He for she! It takes two to tango!"

"It really doesn't," Rory twinged. "Jess, I'm so sorry. Just go."

"Okay…" he mused backing away from Paris. "So...lunch another time?"

"Come back in nine months, if you come back at all!" Paris shouted causing Rory to cover her face.

Jess blinked for a moment and faced Rory wide eyed. "Are...are you pregnant?"

"Thank you very much!" Rory screamed at Paris. "I don't think enough people know. Let's just use a flower crown filter and share it with the whole town!"

"At least it would only last for twenty four hours," Jess shrugged.

Paris went lunging at at him, but was grabbed by Rory. "He's not the father!"

"What?" Paris panted.

"He's not the father. He isn't even my lover."

Jess shrugged. "You're welcome?"

"Oh," Paris said adjusting her pants suit. "Well you should have said something."

"I did," Rory hissed.

"You know I only hear what I want to."

"Okay," Jess sighed. "I'll just leave you and Lisa Loeb."

Rory nodded sadly.

"Unless you need me to stay?" Jess asked softly, placing his hand on her shoulder.

The blue eyes on Paris' flustered face widened in awe.

"I'll be fine," Rory replied, patting his hand.

"Okay," he nodded. "And I won't say anything to Luke or…"

"Mom knows."

Jess smiled. "Of course."

He turned and headed towards the door past the two elderly employees. "Sir." He set his eyes on Esther. "Log Lady."

As soon as he left Paris blurted out. "Marry that man! Marry him right now!"

"Paris…"

"Fine," Paris huffed. "A man who just found out your are carrying another man's baby asked to stay and you don't care. You are an idiot."

"Well that's already been established."

"So, who is the father?"

Rory beckoned Paris back into the closet which she begrudgingly followed her into.

"Don't freak out," Rory began and Paris looked ready to shout. " And it's not Doyle!"

Paris relaxed and nodded her head to continue.

"It's Paul's."

"Who?"

"Exactly."

…..

AN: Just because...lol Let us explore all options, shall we. Pfft.

References: Angelina Jolie, Kristen Stewart, Mazursky, smurfs, airplane, when Harry met Sally, inside out, he for she, Snapchat, Lisa Loeb, twin peaks,


End file.
